


Practical Applications

by theletterelle



Series: Studies [1]
Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, Caning, Humiliation, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 12:59:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterelle/pseuds/theletterelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe tries to put what he's been learning to use.  Mikey and Pete are not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practical Applications

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lessons and Plans](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/5906) by Gala Apples. 



Gabe enters the coffee shop with his hood up. He tries to scan the crowd unobtrusively, looking around as if lost in thought on what to order. He doesn’t see Mikey or Pete, and the stab of disappointment is entirely out of proportion. Fuck, he needs to settle down. It’s lack of coffee. Must be. He conveniently overlooks the fact that coffee will not actually calm him down, and orders a venti triple-shot.

When he gets his coffee and turns around, he almost runs smack into Mikey. “Shit,” Gabe says, startled.

Mikey blinks. “That’s not usually what people say when they see me,” he says. Gabe isn’t sure whether he’s making a joke or not. “I’m just gonna get some coffee. Pete’s looking for you back there.”

“Okay,” says Gabe. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pete gesticulating wildly. “I’ll just...” Mikey’s already at the counter talking to the barista, so Gabe shrugs and heads over. Pete sits back down, and Gabe folds into an armchair opposite the low table. “Hey,” he says. His smile is charming. He knows it is; he practiced it in the mirror until he was satisfied.

“How’re you doing?” says Pete. “Did you find it okay? I know it can get confusing, cause there’s this one, and the other one over by the library, and the one _in_ the library...”

“No problem,” says Gabe. “Thanks. This is great.”

“I thought you’d feel better,” Pete rattles on, “meeting in a public place like this. I mean, it’s just basic safety, when you’re negotiating with someone new, just to cover all the bases, I mean, it’s not like we think you’re a psycho killer, or at least we’re pretty sure you’re-- hey, coffee, excellent, thanks Mikey.”

Mikey hands off the coffee and sits down, a look of long forbearance on his face. Pete continues. “So, you know our basics from the class, and I guess you texted some with Mikey-- right Mikey? but we don’t know a whole lot about you, so. What are you into? What do you want to try?”

Shit. Gabe had practiced answers to what he figured would be the basic questions, but now that he’s here, they’re gone. _I don’t really do any of this shit_ is not an acceptable response. _Hot sweaty mansex with both of you_ isn’t either. “Okay. I’m bi--”

“Cool, we are too,” Pete interrupts. Mikey puts a hand on his arm, and Pete stills.

“-- and I’m single.” _Thank fuck._ “I’m a sophomore physics major, and if you want to run a check on me, I can give you a copy of my license.” There. Good. He’s back on track. He smiles again, and both Pete and Mikey smile back. Great. Gabe has _got_ this. He consults the checklist in his head. “I tested clean three months ago, and I haven’t done anything risky since then.”

Pete nods. “Mikey and I are fluid-bonded, but we use condoms with all our other partners. That’s not up for negotiation.”

“Oh, no, I totally agree,” says Gabe. “So, yeah, I’ve mostly topped when it comes to sex, but I do have some bottoming experience.” His mind veers away from Elisa and that dolphin-shaped dildo-- _I will_ not _be assfucked by a fish_ \-- and toward the much more attractive prospect of Mikey and Pete together, Mikey and Pete and Gabe. “I’m fine either way. Are you...?” He looks from one to the other.

“We switch,” says Mikey. “So it’s pretty flexible, I guess. What about kinks?”

Does that mean sex is on? Gabe’s not sure, but he’s feeling pretty good. Okay. Kinks. Yes. He grasps after the lessons he sat through for the last three months. “I’ve had good experiences with caning,” he says slowly, brain whirring. “I-- sting is good. Generally.” _Stingy toys, stingy toys_ \-- “Singletails,” he says, and curses at himself all the while he keeps talking. “Are good, and really any hitting with hands. Not the face, though.”

“So for play, you’re more comfortable on the bottom, is that right?” Pete frowns at his empty cup and picks up Mikey’s instead.

“At the moment, yeah, pretty much.” Because Gabe can fake it to an extent, but that faking it emphatically does not extend to hitting other people with things. He’s not such an asshole that he’d deliberately endanger someone.

Mikey steals his cup back. “We sometimes switch there too, though I usually end up underneath. I do beat on him when he wants me to, but I don’t dom. That’s all Pete.” He gives Pete a quick grin, and Gabe’s stomach clenches with the wish that someone would grin at him like that.

“We usually do power exchange,” adds Pete. “Is that cool? I mean, are you looking for power play? Or just straight sensation?”

Gabe is suddenly dizzy at the thought of submission. He keeps his expression light. “I... haven’t done that before. With a guy,” he adds, because if you think about it, his whole relationship with Elisa was one big powerfuck. “I wouldn’t say no, but it’s not what I’m primarily looking for. I’d like to keep it basic to start, if at all possible.” Hell, he’s not even sure he can handle the basics, but he’ll make himself deal, because he’s not about to confess now.

Mikey’s looking at him, considering him. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely.” Even if Gabe wasn’t, he’d make sure he was.

“Okay. Here’s our address.” Mikey hands him a scribbled piece of paper. “Be sure someone you trust knows where you’re going to be, who you’re meeting, and when you’ll be back, okay? We’re going to do the same; we just want to make sure everyone’s safe all around.”

Address. Fucking gold. “Excellent,” says Gabe, the charming smile turning into a grin he can’t control. “Is there anything in particular I should wear?”

“Nah,” says Pete. “You won’t be wearing it for long.”

-o-

Sex is on. Sex is on. Hopefully sex is on. Gabe drums anxiously on the steering wheel as he pulls into a parking space. He’s not looking forward to the beating, but once he makes it past that, he’ll at least be able to watch them have sex. Hopefully the kind of watching that turns into an invitation, and then? Sex will be _on_.

Gabe double-checks the apartment number before knocking. Mikey opens the door as if he’d been waiting on the other side. He looks the same, messy hair, glasses slightly askew. There’s a leather collar clasped around his neck. He smiles and gestures Gabe inside.

The apartment is small, a living room and tiny galley kitchen plus two doors that probably lead to the bathroom and bedroom. The blinds are drawn; the only light comes from a small lamp on the coffee table. The couch is a futon, folded down to become a bed. Pete’s standing beside it, wearing a worn pair of jeans and nothing else. His upper body is covered in ink. The bag Gabe remembers from the demo is on the floor by the futon. Gabe concentrates on looking cool. And breathing.

Mikey lays a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, and Gabe can’t keep from jumping. “It’s okay,” says Pete. “He’s just saying hi. He’s not allowed to speak right now.” Pete smiles, lazy and full of promise. “Shirt off, Mikey. Gabe, would you like to take off your shoes?”

Gabe doesn’t trust himself to say anything that won’t be stupid. He nods, and slides out of his sneakers. His dick, hard even before he stepped in the door, is positively aching now that he sees Mikey pulling off his shirt, sees the faded evidence of punishment on Mikey’s skinny back.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to follow orders, Gabe.” Pete’s voice is confident, for all it’s so quiet. His frantic energy has subsided to a calm certainly. “Do you mind if Mikey kisses you?” And when Gabe shakes his head, “Mikey. Kiss Gabe.”

Mikey has to stand on tiptoe to put his arms around Gabe’s neck. His mouth is firm and warm, and his tongue flicks out between his teeth and brushes Gabe’s bottom lip. Gabe rests his hands on Mikey’s hips, feeling bone under the skin. He kisses back fiercely, and Mikey makes an inviting murmur and matches his intensity. When they finish, Pete is watching them with approval. “Good boy,” he says, and Gabe’s cock jumps. “Gabe, I think it would be better if you and Mikey were naked. Do you agree?”

“I do,” says Gabe. It’s the first time he’s spoken tonight. Mikey hasn’t waited for a command; he’s skinning his jeans off and tossing them in a corner before Gabe gets his unbuttoned. Mikey’s fully hard as well, which makes Gabe feel not quite so horny-teen-gauche as he straightens up. Pete stops them before they can kiss again.

“I’d like you to kneel down,” he says to Gabe, “and bend over the futon. Mikey, around the other side, same thing.”

Gabe’s not sure he can breathe. He takes a step, two, stands beside Pete, facing the futon, watching Mikey fold gracefully to his knees and into position. Gabe sucks in air and follows. His ass and thighs tingle in anticipation. He tenses, and jerks when he feels something rub against him.

“Before we go any further,” says Pete above him, “tell me your safeword.”

They had covered this in negotiations last night, but Gabe answers anyway. “Elisa.” He figures if anything goes wrong, he’ll blame her, so her name would be in his head anyway. Plus there’s nothing like the name of an ex to kill the mood.

Pete chuckles. “Good. All right, I’m starting with a paddle. Could you put your arms across the mattress? Mikey’s going to hold your hands.”

Gabe reaches out and feels Mikey take his hands. Mikey’s touch is cool and dry. Gabe hopes his own hands aren’t gross. He should have wiped them off first. He should have--

The sound makes him flinch more than the pain, which is not even really pain at all. Mikey squeezes his hands. The paddle smacks Gabe again, and after the first few spanks, he stops flinching. Another minute, and the heat is almost pleasant. Gabe begins to relax. Across from him, Mikey smiles.

When Pete stops with the paddle, Gabe is nearly humming to himself. Mikey’s hands are warm in his. Gabe opens his eyes and smiles at Mikey, but his smile freezes when he feels something thin and solid pressed against his ass. His stomach drops and his hands go slack; Pete draws the cane back and--

 _GOD._ Gabe keeps from yelling only with a great effort. He’s gonna take this. He knew what he was getting into and he accepted it, he can stand this, it’s not gonna kill him--

 _FUCK._ Part of his mind knows this probably isn’t bad, as canings go, but that part is hard-pressed to stand against the part that’s yelling _get out get out now oh fucking hell_ \--

“Ngh.” He can’t keep the pained sound inside. His eyes squeeze tight against sudden tears--

“Fuck.” It’s only a whisper. The lines on his ass blaze white-hot. He can’t feel Mikey’s hands--

“Jesus!” He had a thing, there was a thing to say, but he won’t say it, he’s not the loser she thinks he is, not--

“Elisa!” The voice isn’t Gabe’s. “Pete, something’s wrong with him.” There’s a clatter beside Gabe, and warm hands touching his back. “Gabe?” Pete sounds worried. “Gabe, talk to me. It’s okay, we’re done. Can you get up?” Another set of hands eases him upright. Gabe opens his eyes. Everything’s blurry. He blinks, and tears spill down his cheeks.

They help him onto the futon, face down, and Pete covers him with a blanket. Gabe tries not to shake. He’s not _weak_ , for God’s sake, he’s the guy who always has it together. Mikey sits on one side and rests a hand on his shoulder. Pete sits on the other side and holds his hand. Gabe’s embarrassed at how pathetically comforting that is.

It’s a few minutes before he twists his head to look at Pete. “God. Sorry.”

Pete frowns. “For what? It’s not your fault. I guess I was hitting harder than I thought. I should’ve taken it slower.”

Gabe shakes his head, pushes to sit up. “No, you-- I mean, I was--”

“You’re a virgin,” says Mikey. His tone is flat, and he’s not touching Gabe anymore.

“What?” Gabe hasn’t been accused of that since he was fifteen.

“You haven’t been caned before, have you?” Mikey’s glasses are smudged. His eyes bore into Gabe. “Have you ever done any play before?”

“I--” Gabe begins, then stops. “No,” he says in a small voice.

Pete stares at Gabe. “You lied to us?” He sounds honestly confused, as if the idea is unthinkable.

For once, Gabe doesn’t trust himself to speak. He nods. He can’t meet their eyes.

“You lied. During negotiation.” Pete tries to work this out. “You looked us in the face, and you lied to us. Jesus.”

Mikey’s jaw is tight. “Get out,” he says.

“Mikey, hang on--”

“No. No. Pete, he-- Goddammit, he could go to the fucking _cops_ and say you beat him, you could get into trouble or go to fucking _jail_ for assault--”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Gabe protests. Mikey doesn’t pay attention. “He fucking well lied, he’s not trustworthy, and I want him out of here.”

“Wait. Wait. Okay, I get it, I’ll go, just let me explain, please, will you let me explain?” Gabe gathers the blanket around him. Maybe they’ll let him wash it and return it.

Pete makes a gesture to Mikey, who scowls but shuts up. They look at Gabe. Gabe licks his lips. “I wanted to. I saw your demo, and it was-- I wanted to watch you, I wanted to be with you. So bad. I had to, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I thought if you thought I was some idiot noob, you wouldn’t want to talk to me. I thought you’d...” He swallows. “Laugh at me,” he finishes softly. God, he is an idiot. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He swipes at his eyes and looks around for his shirt.

“Are you?” Mikey crosses his arms.

Gabe laughs shakily. “It was stupid. Beyond stupid. It was, like, the first lesson we learned, how to negotiate, and how the whole thing is based on trust. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I fucked it up, and I’m really sorry it was with you guys.” He stands up. “Let me just get my clothes, I’ll go.”

They don’t say anything as he gets dressed. It isn’t until Gabe has his hand on the doorknob that Pete speaks. “Just a second.”

Gabe turns. Mikey is still scowling. Pete has a hand on Mikey’s knee. “Tell us something true,” Pete says. “One thing that you do like. For real.”

What the hell. Gabe can’t look any stupider or make things any worse. “Metal,” he says.

“Metal?” Pete uncoils from the futon and comes toward Gabe. Gabe backs up until the door stops him.

“Metal. Um. Cuffs. Handcuffs.” His dick gives an interested twitch. “Shackles.” There’s a stronger twitch.

Pete stops a few inches from Gabe. He’s back in command now, and it doesn’t matter that he’s a head shorter than Gabe. Gabe knows if he gets this wrong, he is well and truly fucked. “Is that true?” says Pete.

Gabe clenches his hands behind his back. “Yes.” He flicks his eyes at Mikey, then back to Pete. “Sir.” That could be presumption, but Pete nods, allowing it. “And... I like to watch.”

Pete turns to Mikey. Mikey raises an eyebrow. Pete nods, and turns back to Gabe. “What would you do if we gave you one more chance?”

“I--” Gabe’s mouth is dry. “Anything. Anything you want. I won’t fuck up like that ever again, I swear.”

Pete stares at him for a long moment, until Gabe is ready to drop to his knees and beg, if that’ll do any good. Pete sighs, then steps aside. “Go into the kitchen.”

Gabe obeys. Pete follows him, pulls out a chair and spins it so it’s facing the wall. “Sit.” Gabe does. There’s a jingle next to his ear; he looks up at Mikey, who’s holding a pair of cuffs. “Hands,” Pete orders, and Gabe puts his hands behind his back. Pete snaps a cuff onto one wrist, threads the other through the chair spindles and cuffs the other one.

“Keep still,” Pete orders. “No struggling in metal cuffs. It can cause nerve damage, as Mikey Way well knows.” There’s the sound of a slap behind Gabe, a small noise of protest. “If I come back here and see one tiny shadow of a bruise, you’re out of here permanently.”

“I understand.” Despite his humiliation, Gabe is hard again, but he’s not about to say or do anything that might screw this up. “I’ll be good.”

“We’ll see.” That from Mikey. Gabe stares straight at the wall and keeps his mouth shut.

“Isn’t someone here supposed to not be talking right now?” asks Pete. “I’m gonna have to get that cane and teach you a lesson. You’ll be-- ow! Hey! No biting!” There’s another slap behind him, a sigh, sounds of kissing.

Mikey and Pete move to the living room. Gabe can hear a thin whipping sound, and even though he knows exactly how it feels now, his arousal remains as strong as ever. He can remember Mikey’s face as he took the caning in class. He wishes he could see it now.

“Goddammit,” he whispers. He softly knocks his head against the wall and curses his own idiocy.


End file.
